


'Sing Prima Donna... Once More.'

by FreckleSue



Category: Phantom of the Opera (2004), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Anal Sex, Angst, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Depression, F/M, Human Derek Hale, Humor, M/M, Other, Phantom/Stiles, Possessive Behavior, Scarred Stiles, gypsyDerek, kid Isaac and Erica, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 01:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2173419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreckleSue/pseuds/FreckleSue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with a fire and that is how it will end. </p><p>Derek had finally managed to escape from the circus his Uncle had sold him to. To hide from Kates thugs that closed in on his heels, he found an open sewer drain that took him far below the surface and away from her cold touch. </p><p>But what Derek did not expect to find is another soul dwelling in the shadows, a man whose life rotting away by depression and self loathing.</p><p>Stiles had hidden from the world for years after the great fire burnt down the theater and killed his only family, leaving him horrible scarred. Haunted by memories of lost love, he did not expect another soul to come across him. This soul, so angry at the world and silent... Stiles finds himself wanting to reach out into his light, to feel the warm tan skin and wonder, if once again.. he could feel the light..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 'Where'

_‘You are my special little one.’_

Shaking fingers reached out, nails scratching across the dust covered curtain hanging limp before them. Across the stage dust gathered over the years of silence on what was once alive and wide, where souls danced across its surface and master pieces were uttered out to the air.

Lights once filled this area, music played loudly and freely to payers’ ears, voices singing out in merriment and perfect harmony. This place… This place was once alive.

Twice it lived… and Twice it died.

Now in darkness and grime, it lay forgotten, hollow and burnt from the fire so long ago.

_‘You must never forget..’_

Pushing the curtains back, he gazed out into the audience, the empty seats haunted and broken. Before the stage, right where the music pit laid, the once magnificent chandelier that hung above the grand area, shining its lights, diamonds flickering like stars within the shadows or burning bright as the sun when the actors needed it to embrace them. This place was his home.

This place was his everything.

Now that bright light was shattered, laying in a pile of twisted metal at the end of the stage, breaking the wood, cracking the surface and ruining the fountain. The fire took it all away, took away his family.

Teeth clenching tightly, his breaths become rapid as the memories started to return.

Then she came.

Long ago he stood in the shadow sobbing at his loss, burying himself deep within his tomb and hidden pathways for years that he did not notice them rebuilding. Bringing this place back to its glory. The music was what he noticed first, playing so softly at first before it got bigger, louder, voices following soon after, words playfully dancing to his ears that for a moment, he thought he was a child again, that when he raced to the surface and peeked onto the stage he would see her again dancing, arms wide and reaching to him to rush at her, to let her pick him up and twirl him within the air as her voice bathed his ears of tales and fantasies.

When he looked, it was not her. No.. It was someone else, another angel moving across the remade stage with presences of a goddess. Pale skin glowing in the spot light, golden red hair like flames curling around her slender form in her movement. She sang perfectly, her steps on point and making every cue and twirl on beat. Her face showed her concentration, her determination and at that point.

He fell in love.

 _‘Wherever you go… Please let me go too…_ ’

With a hiss, he tossed the battered curtain back before him, blocking the sight again.

That was in the past, a childish dream, a foolish hope and he followed her like a horse to water, leaving her gifts, teaching her from the darkness, making her the star he knew she was. He helped her, risked everything and all he asked, all he wanted…

Pulling away, he let out a yell, his hands covering his face quickly as he felt the first throb of pain. It all was ruined! Everything he worked for, everything he done was ruined! He still remembered the look on her face when she saw him, the utter disgust across her lips and sorrow within her perfect green eyes. He still remembered the feel of betrayal when she reached to him and ripped his shame away, laying him bare before the crowd, letting them see what a real monster he truly was.

She let that man see him too.

With another yell, he turned and grabbed the first item within reach, tossing it across the stage, listening to the crash of impact. He trusted her; He would have done anything for her.

Touching his face again, he removed his shame, looking down upon it in pain. How he wish he didn’t have to have it, how he wished he could throw it away, break it before his feet and leave it behind like everyone else did. Forget about it just like how everyone forgot about him…

With a choked sob, he rose the item back up, feeling his pride shatter a little more when the cold marble touched his skin, chilling his charred skin. He was weak, just like she told him. He did not deserve her, just like he did not deserve to live when ‘she’ died.

Mask in place… He returned back to the shadows he dwelled in, back to hiding just like the coward he was.

_‘My special little one…’_


	2. Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He ran.

He couldn’t feel his feet any more but he kept going. Numb and bleeding, the wet stones below he followed, eyes searching, always searching. He wouldn’t go back; he’ll die first before they take him.

Turning a sharp corner, he stumbled into empty wooden carts causing them to fall and clatter but he kept moving, hooping over them, the muscles in his thighs threatening, burning but he couldn’t stop, they would get him.

Derek had to get away.

He used his burning rage to keep moving when his body was demanding to stop, to pause, to rest. The feeling of betrayal all those years ago the day they came and got him, calling out for his Uncle, reaching out to him in hopes he would be saved but his Uncle turned his back, a leather purse clenched tightly in hand. He had sold his only nephew away. He screamed for his sister, wanting her to rush at him, to follow him but she was gone, locked away so she wouldn’t interfere.

The years that followed felt like a dream, a never ending nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. The Great Argent Circus was his cage, trapped within the ring of cheers and coins he never got to touch. A young age he was taught to dance, poisoned blood in his veins they told him. A gypsy he was and that they abused, making him remember the dances his mother had taught him, the movement his father would do to make their family laugh and sing. Thick make-up and paint covering his torso to cover the lashes and bruises on the days he was not fast enough, on the nights he did not earn enough and Kate had to re-teach him the lesson of why one must ‘try harder next time.’

He grew, he hated and he danced, his face morphing into stone, an emotionless expression that drew women to his stage, their heavy perfume choking his lungs when they closed in, their too soft hands wanting to touch him, ease away the stress from his face, the crease in his brows and sometimes, the men would come too, their faces red and lips painted in grins at the idea of pinning him down, over powering the dancer with their weight until his stone face broke in a scream. They wanted to touch him, to taste him and he felt like his skin was peeling away every time they did. No soap was strong enough to remove the taste of them from his mouth, no water hot enough to remove their touch from his skin.

But of all the people they allowed to touch him, all the payers whom pinned him down and used him for their own desires, no touch was more painful than that of the masters daughter.

Kate Argent.

Her nails always sank into his back, hard enough to draw blood, to remind him whenever he bathed, whenever he had to paint over them, that no matter whom saw him, who lay with him, who used him. He was hers, her own little gypsy pet to warm her bed when she felt the need.

After suffering for so long in this hell hole, he saw his chance to escape.

Derek had finished his performance, the clicks of coins hitting his stage echoing dull to his ears as he walked away, his skin coated in sweat from the humidity, muscles sore from his movements. He made it behind the curtain of the circus ring, the rest of the ‘family’ the head master joked loudly following after him. A ‘family’ of other children bought to dance alongside him, who all suffered the same fate. There was one person within the group Derek had watched thou, sometimes out of confusion. A young man named Scott was just shy of sixteen, his olive covered skin unmarked from eye few, black hair shaggy dripped in sweat along his forehead, cradling his young face. He still smiled, which was very rare in this place. Scott was the small light of hope, always whispering to the others of the plans he had when he earned enough to get out [they would never get out… Scott would understand soon]. The places he would see and the people he would met but one dream, one that he held onto was the day he got to see his mother again, feel her arms wrap him back up in her embrace before he was ripped away from them.

Scott had hope and Derek felt a small ping of pity for the boy.

But tonight, when he made it to the back of the stage, the exit was open. Normally Kate had her thugs standing watch, waiting for him so they can lead him to his next performance, lead him to the waiting hands of ‘clients’ that paid for his ‘entertainment.’ Kate never trusted him on his own, not after his second failed attempt to run. She always had someone watching him, guarding him.

They weren’t there, the exit was empty.

He looked around quickly, everyone was moving, getting undress from their performance, stretching for their next act and there, he saw them. Two of Kates helpers whom normally grabbed him stood chatting with the eldest son, Chris Argent. They were not paying attention, he had a chance. Still in costume, his muscular upper torso covered in gold flakes, dark purple soft pants bagging to his knees so his feet could move without stepping upon them. Dark colors of red, wine, yellows and blue sashes wrapped around his hips, ringing with small sliver bells that were tied to the ends, he wasn’t prepared

He ran.

He made a couple of steps out of the exit when he noticed the young teen walking before him. Young Scott, eyes so bright, crooked jaw always a smile. He was walking towards the wagons where the ‘clients’ sat waiting, he was going to do his rounds.

Grabbing Scott’s elbow, Derek yanked him along causing the young boy to yell out but Derek ignored it, just kept running, forcing the boy to keep up. Scott voice called out in a panic, he just kept going, ran through the crowd, pushing people away, eyes searching, always searching until he found the road. Soon shouts were made, voices ringing out of the runners, soon Kates thugs would follow and for that, Derek finally yelled at Scott to run faster.

They had made it to bridge, just outside of the camp grounds. Before them the town laid, they could get lost in there, hide and escape. Rushing over the wooden boards, Derek pulled Scott towards the town.

“Derek what are you doing?!” Scott’s voice finally snapped into his ear and Derek finally spun them around, pushing the teen into a dark ally, giving them a chance to breath. “Scott listen to me.” He hissed, “This is our chance to get out.”

“ Are you insane!” Scott panted, “They’re going to whip us!”

“Scott this is the only way!” Derek growled.

“No its not! We could have earned our way out, just a few more coins and we could walk away free men!”

“Don’t be stupid Scott!” Derek snapped, pushing the young boy against the damp brick wall, “We’ll never get enough coins! They will keep raising it, they will never let us leave!”

“No! Chris swor-“

“Gerard doesn’t care enough for our freedom.” Derek glared, “He would gladly watch us die in a ditch before he allowed anyone to walk. They lied to us, to you. THIS is our only chance.”

Scott stared at him in shock, wide eyes pleading for the truth to not be but Derek just looked away, peeking back around the corner. “If you think my words are wrong, then go back.” He spoke softly, “Walk back to the camp ground and tell them I did this and you can see how long it takes before you earn your ‘freedom’.”

The sounds of dogs made Derek jerk back hissing, “Now or never kid.” And without another word, Derek spun and took off, leaving the silent teen behind.

Derek got him that far, Scott can choose where to go from there.

Getting closer to the center of the town, a rise of panic began to rise in his chest at the sounds of barks getting closer. They were going to catch him, they were going to bring him back to her and she wouldn’t kill him. No, she would never let him know the sweet bliss of numbness, she would tie him up, keep him pinned and keep him awake, she would beat him, burn him and remind him over and over again who he belong to, who was his ring master.

His feet scraped across the ground causing a fall, striking the ground completely on his left side, shooting pain along his shoulder and head, his temple catching the stone floor. He laid there in pain, body shaking uncontrollable at this point, his brain screaming at him to run but his body, his body refused to move.

He didn’t want to go back.

He wanted to go home.

Closing his eyes tightly, Derek rolled himself onto his front, his stomach heaving at the wave of dizziness. If they catch him, he would make sure he fought back, he would not go back limp, he’ll go back kicking and screaming or he’ll go back dead. Pushing to his hands and knees, he began to crawl, his skin started to pick up something cold covering his form, the white noise in his ears finally faded letting him hear the soft putters of rain hitting the ground. Perfect its rain. The ground was getting to slick for him to hold on.

He was going to get caught. Closing his eyes tightly, he gave it one last push; he used the last of his strength to lean forward into the wall and pushes himself to stand.

With a crack, he landed on his back.

The shock of pain yanked the air from his lungs, leaving him to lie on the ground gasping like a fish out of water. Wide eyes watch a small rusted color gate slowly swing back up, locking itself back into place within the wall.

Air filled his lungs and his back arched up from the gasp. Rolling onto his side, his fingers squeezed into fists at the pain that rocked his body from the impact. He didn’t fall from very air, five feet tops but it still hurt like a bitch when you don’t brace for it. Pushing to his elbows, he looked, frowning on how he ended up here.

Looks like the wall he thought was a wall…was not one but a broken window. His body went still when he heard the sounds of rushing feet and barking dogs. They were here. Rolling, he pressed himself closer to the wall, teeth biting his tongue to keep the hiss of pain from his battered back meeting the wall that lingered under the window. Drops of water trailed over the edges, seeping into the stone, trailing down to him from the outside where voices muffled over the rain.

‘Do you see him?’

‘ He came this way; I hear those damn bells over here.’

‘Find him! Kate is going to have our balls if he gets away!’

‘What about the other one?’

‘We’ll get him later, Find Derek!’

Derek kept silent, his heart racing, feeling it was going to crawl up out of his throat but by some higher power, they began to move away, rushing down another ally taking them further.

Derek stayed where he was, his lungs starting to burn from the breath he held. He ignored it, not wanting to make a sound, not wanting to move a muscle until he knew for sure they were gone.

A few minutes felt like an hour but Derek finally let his lungs empty out, hands lowering from their spots on the wall. Once his nerves were settled, he began to take in the area. It looked like the ‘window’ he fell through was an opening to a tunnel, perhaps it was the sewer? He’ll take whatever it was if it meant he was out of sight and well hidden. Taking another deep breath, Derek began rising himself to his feet, it would be best if he got away from the window in case they rounded back. He had to go deeper into the tunnel.

He moved forward.


End file.
